while reminiscing through
the thickly pined forests,
the gurgling streams
and fiery sky, blinking
through the notches and scars
with blazing beauty,
with sea's gentle drumbeat
and silvery descendant of heavens,
caress my numbing hands
with a mitten woven with
precious gems and
heartstring

When she found him,
he was a brittle bag of broken.
Drawstring taut.
Tight.
Holding thoughts that went unspoken.
Opening up isn't easy,
though they say it is in theory.
When putting it in practice,
words slowly flow uneasy.
But she found her way to his heart,
started to slowly pull it's strings.
Looser and looser.
And now his words he sings.
His spine was cracked,
so she blu-tacked it back together.
His mind, a map they scrawled
on scraps of black leather.
Bandaged his ego and plastered his past.
A perfect example of a person well matched.

drill
i thought i left all this madness behind
thought it was a product of the eighties
but there in my rearview mirror
the narrative of single form insanity is closing the gap
the mystery engine
glides on the silent motion of daily demise
drill

drill
all thouse years ago
it was a simple affair you see
it was all just a song and dance away
a soft shoe shuffle
to get some medication
and a chat with a sympathetic plastic face
back in thouse whacky good ole days
in New York's sunny
nineteen eighties
drill

drill
someone is slipping in behind me
knife in hand'
they are plotting
i should just run while iv got a chance
the gate is open
and there is some ****** thing she is offering
at the end of the road just there round the bend
if i plunder today for tomorrows bankrupt mind  
drill

drill
i am sitting here in a dark room
asking that will you please hold my hand
the walls have closed in and im waiting for voices
waiting for the slow slide into the dark
please take leave of your schedule
and pencil me in for some ****** help please
drill

drill
its raining outside
and there is a wood at the end of the lane
im sure i could slip away unseen
repair the once great engine
that destroyed
rebuild the great machine that once
wreaked havoc
lets just drill thru the protective cover
and get our greasy little fingers on this trigger

morning seeps into the minds eye
like a process of madness
and as this place revealed
as this method is unveiled
the screaming, throwing things, acting out
thats expected seems to be a safe bet
the pout of childish behavior seems inevitable
i pause and wish i could find an easier way
i dont want to try suicide again
that ran out of entertainment value a long time ago
when a good friend succeeded

leaving my hopes and dreams in a small pile
that looks too much like litter
and makes me sad
cause now i know its really over
your really gone
and your never comin home
we are never gonna watch that german sunrise
on a western shore bungalow
gather up my belongings
and my heartstring longings
and step gingerly carefully onto the hardpack
lean out onto the road
put out my thumb
and begin to whistle softly some nineteen eighty eight tune
fastbender

drill into the the mislabeled logic
past the protective layers
and get your greasy fingers round this
you second generation second rate  hippy fu^^face
time is up and your lies are thin
gimmie my due or gimmie my leave
stop with the ******-social babble
and talk to me
or let me out of this monkey house

with a words full of soft smiles
she gently slides me into a mistake free zone
she gives me a cup of joe and a comfy chair
in the waiting room
pauses to give a wary glance to my
backpack and filthy jeans
but thats quite allright she seems to say
a rubber stamp will give a glancing blow
knock the dirt from this
plundered one
she sits down at her desk and pushes the keys
setting the engine in motion
the machine in gear
to end this long day

ill find some peace and comfort
soon enough i tell myself
in some quiet corner or room
padded by charity
medicated by soft compassion
soft compassion drilling into exposed bone

irksome thoughts spin round the moment
and they flee to where iv fled to
and they tap out strange messages on my head
and they gather dust into piles
and the piles grow to hills with the
passing hours and changing landscapes of the heartstring
strings are for kittens to play with
chase round and round

she lay in the shade of an oak tree
by the roadside
in the dust hills
sipping her long island
and watching the road with languid eyes
leaf floats down and
unattached from the dream
she wanders
the dust hills wailing for lost loves not her own
and berating thouse resposible for every
slight ever felt

headlights bath the dust hills
as eighteen wheelers truck
the empire of america ever southward
into the cheaply painted tropical sun
she is bikini clad
and is forever clutching an ice cold drink
that eternaly leaves a smile on
her forever blemish free smile
in the ***** dark dust hills

i feel so alone here by her side
i want to run away
and sleep in a feild
with the ****** and the drunkard
with the apostles of night

Knots of a string,
Tied in the darkness
Where my soul dwelled.

Beyond the horizon
Where the seas not part it,
The tides shan't break, and
Wildlife dare not hunt for its flesh.

For man, the greatest adversary,
Could not create
The greatest obstacles in life
To prevent you
From pulling me
Towards you once again.

Set of black pearl knives
Parallel vagabond skies
Corresponding idea hives
Pair of strawberry lies

Radiant shivering fire
Exquisite heartstring mire
Resplendent silent choir
Magnificent desire pyre